


our hearts on our skin

by airplanetrails



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoos, Boys In Love, Falling In Love Leaves Tattoos, M/M, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Pining, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Stucky - Freeform, Tattoos, The Marks We Leave AU, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 05:12:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5815537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airplanetrails/pseuds/airplanetrails
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which everyone is born with their own unique tattoo on their body, and every time you fall in love with someone, their tattoo appears on a similar place on your body. </p><p>Bucky has tattoos he can't identify.<br/>Steve just doesn't seem to have any tattoos.<br/>Not any that Bucky have seen, that is...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friend who is stalking me don't give up on your fic!!!!!
> 
> Apologies I have been so excited to post this, I may have missed out some mistakes. Also this was based off some cool prompt I found on Tumblr but can't really remember anymore.

Bucky was a canvas. A beautiful mess of swirling curls, bold scripts and shapes, the inky black scrawled across his skin like brands. Like they say, “Love leaves its mark.” and Bucky was never one to shy away from love. He fell head over heels so often that Steve wouldn’t be surprised if he were constantly concussed. That would explain how often he would wake Steve up at the most inhuman hours, as he stumbled through the door, smelling like the pub and declaring “I’m in love Stevie! You should have seen her. I swear I’m going to marry her. “ then proceeding to fall into a dead sleep on the bed, leaving Steve blurry-eyed and a little confused. 

By the time he was 24, Bucky had amassed an impressive collection of tattoos. Enough that people on the street who saw his marks, would often do a double take, eye him with pity, disgust, shock, aversion, and ever so often, respect. Unlike other people who were ashamed of their tattoos, hid them under long sleeves, Bucky wore them with pride, like badges of honour. He never found there any shame in loving. Love was not something to be ashamed of. To love and be loved was the highest honour one could be bestowed. 

In stark contrast, Steve was relatively unmarked. His pasty pale skin seemed only more so with the lack of tattoos. Bucky reasoned that Steve couldn’t possibly be unmarked, at the very least he had to have his own tattoo. Since Steve always took great care to never change in front of him, scampering to the toilet even when Bucky swore he wasn’t looking. He never saw Steve without his shirt on, which meant his minds imagination wandering, picturing a flood of tattoos under that cotton button down, painting stark lines across Steve’s pale skin. It was a tantalising image, one that sent his blood rushing south and necessitated countless cold showers that left him only hungry for one glimpse, one touch, one taste. 

Yet every day as he watched Steve stretching, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, shirt lifting flashing pale alabaster skin. Rolled up sleeves revealing bare skin. Skinny legs marked only by scars from countless fights and falls. That fantasy seemed more and more unlikely. The expanse of unmarked skin, was beautiful yet sad. But Bucky refused to believe that Steve had never fallen in love. It would have been Bucky’s failure as his best friend, if Steve had never fallen in love. Not even once.

The question kept bugging him, where did Steve hide his tattoos? Which led to this... 

“Steve! Where you been hidin’ all those tattoos? I swear it’s not possible you don’t have any. I saw you eyein’ up Eliza the other day, where you hidin’ it?” Bucky slurred, leaning heavily on Steve who was trying to shove him through their apartment door. But Bucky was too absorbed in tugging at the sleeve of Steve’s shirt, to cooperate. 

Honestly he should have known better, invading Steve’s privacy like that, he knew better about what having people judge you for your tattoos felt like. But he was drunk as a fish and he HAD to know where Steve hid his tattoos. So he really shouldn’t have been surprised when Steve slapped away his hands and snapped at him. 

“It’s none of your business. I don’t ask about your tattoos, don’t ask about mine.” Steve shrugged him off onto the couch pointedly and made a hasty exit to the bathroom. 

“Steve! Hey! Come back! I’m sorry!” Bucky yelled, but was greeted by the sound of the shower, Steve obviously drowning out his voice or at least trying to. 

He resolved to stay awake until Steve came back so he could apologise. But it became apparent that he did not succeed when he awoke to Steve putting on his coat and slamming the door behind him. 

At least sometime through the night a blanket had found its way around his shoulders, and he wanted so hard to believe that Steve was the one who had put it there. But hope wasn’t a luxury he could afford, the price of disappointment was too high for him to pay again.

It was going to be a long day and he was already going to be late for work.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm too excited so this is really short. I'M SORRY!

Bucky always prided himself on knowing the origin of almost all of his tattoos. He never forgot the names of the girls (and boys) that had left their mark on him, although the list kept growing. It was, to him, a mark of respect, for every one was a person, not just a tally mark on his skin. Falling in love didn’t make him weak, despite what assholes on the street seemed to believe. 

“Punk! You think that having all these tattoos makes you look good? You’re just loose.”

“You’re a fag.”

“You’re a wuss.”

“You’re a pansy.”

“You are weak. I’ll leave a mark on you since you seem to love them so much.”

No, it made him stronger. 

“You aren’t worthy enough to leave your mark on me.” He would spit back at them, as they lay groaning on the alley floor, often with swelling lips and bruised jaws. They soon learnt that Bucky was not someone to be messed with, and he was mostly left alone. But sometimes a new kid came along thinking that somehow having loved made Bucky weak, and he would learn the hard way that he could not be more wrong. 

Having loved made him wise and loving someone, whether requited or not, was not something to be ashamed of, not a memory to be forgotten, but one to be cherished and learnt from. The people who had left their mark on him, were as much a part of him, as the tattoos themselves.

Yet there were some he could never identify the source of. 

Specifically this one. An outline of a star over his heart. It really frustrated him actually. A tattoo so much like his own, yet he had never seen it anywhere before. Since the tattoos normally manifested in a location pretty similar to the one on the original, he guessed it wasn’t easy to spot it on the street. But not a single one of the people he had seen half-naked, had this star anywhere on them or had seen it before. 

It made Bucky feel special, having loved someone whom he alone had found beautiful. But it also made him feel guilty, for not knowing who it was. Whoever it was, they deserved someone who loved them, some one to be beside them the way Steve was always beside him. Except of course he wasn’t in love with Steve. Steve was just his best friend. Although, sometimes it felt like something...more. Heated glances. Trailing fingers, that lingered a few seconds too long. The way it felt...right, to have the warmth of Steve pressed to his side...No! They were best friends. Bucky was probably misinterpreting everything, it wouldn’t do for him to endanger their friendship because of this. Besides, he wasn’t in love. He would know if he was. This was probably just an infatuation. He needed to ignore it, the same way he ignored that star over his heart.

The star that had been on Bucky’s chest for as long as he could remember. He had long given up on finding who that person was, perhaps a childhood crush he was too young to remember. Yet with Steve stomping out on him, over his curiosity about his tattoos, had him absentmindedly rubbing his chest as he had his lunch break.

He hadn’t meant to upset Steve. He was worried about him. What would happen to him if something happened to Bucky and was there no one he could fall back on? Had he been too selfish, keeping Steve to himself, preventing Steve from finding someone he loved? Did Steve just not trust him with his tattoos? In fact, what right did he have to question Steve on his tattoos when he didn’t even know about his own? 

He had to apologise to Steve as soon as he got home. But now, he had twenty boxes to load up and he was burning daylight. Any appreciative glances at him were ignored in favour of getting home on time. He wasn't going to let his moment of stupidity ruin their lifelong friendship... At least not _this_ moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all the people who commented/kudos-ed!!! <3 I'm glad you think this is interesting and I hope I don't disappoint!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the huge delay. Real life changes demanded attention. Boy is this chapter short though...

Steve wasn’t even mad anymore. He could never stay mad at Bucky for any longer than a man could survive without breathing. But he was antsy. Bucky had been too close to unintentionally discovering Steve’s secret. One wrong move and Bucky would have exposed the bold black star over his left bicep that was a perfect replica of the one over Bucky’s right bicep. And wouldn’t it surprise Bucky, to find that his best friend was in love with him? What kind of best friend was he? Not a very good one. 

Usually Steve took more care in covering it up, sometimes a bandage, paint splatters, concealing powder that he had found in the bathroom of his art school and nicked. He didn’t want anyone, least of all Bucky, to know that he... he was in love with the man who called him his best friend. Bucky deserved a better friend who didn’t go falling in love with him and a better lover, one who was not afraid to risk it all for Bucky. Plainly put, he was a coward and he didn’t deserve Bucky.

So he hid behind sleeved shirts and never corrected anyone who said he had no tattoos. It was so easy. It felt like life went back to normal, except some mornings he would wake up with Bucky curled around him like a shield against the bitter cold world and Steve would feel his heart leap (that was completely unrelated to any health problems), a twinge of doubt slipping into his thoughts. 

Yet he continued, making sure it was covered. Meticulously he would do this every day, a ritual. 

But when one of the guys who was always down at the bar, came banging on their door, yelling for someone to help Barnes, Steve dropped everything and pulled on the first shirt his hands came in contact with, tugging it on over his undershirt. Grabbing his coat he rushed out, leaving that black star almost peaking out from his short sleeve. In fact it wasn’t even his shirt, that would have explained the neckline that sagged too low and thankfully that allowed him to tug the sleeve down. 

He never could think rational when Bucky was involved. 

He was a coward when it came to Bucky. 

Bucky was always the exception. Which is why he escaped the apartment before he would have to face the inevitable questioning on his strange behaviour.


	4. sometimes love doesn't make you better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry? Life happened ;-;

Steve hated this tattoo.

It tormented him with the knowledge that there were dozens of dames and (perhaps even some lads) who had the same dark star emblazoned on some part of their body, and that each of them had as much claim to Bucky’s heart as each other - none at all. It kept him awake, staring at the ceiling while the cause of all his turmoil lay dead to the world beside him, wrapping him in a furnace of stubble and the smell of peppermint. Any sane person would have melted into Bucky's embrace and enjoyed the fleeting moment while it lasted. But all Steve could think about was what Bucky’s reaction would be, if he found out that he shared a room, a bed with a man who was completely and ridiculously in love with him.

In love enough that he would go against every thing he believed in, and be selfish enough to keep quiet, feign ignorance, just to spend every stolen moment together. Was that what love was? Was love suppose to make you a hypocrite? Wasn't love suppose to make you better? But as Bucky tugged him closer, mumbling about pancakes, he would have gladly surrendered his soul as forfeit to just stay in this moment in time and pretend that somewhere on that tanned skin, there was a outline of a star that matched his own. 

~

The first time he saw a mark other than his own materialising on his arm, his heart skipped. He couldn’t wait to tell Bucky! He had finally got his first mark. It was strange, watching the ink knit itself into his skin, forming the sharp outlines of a... star?

Was it be possible for there to be errors in tattoos? How could this tattoo be the same as his own? He leaped up from his bed and dashed out of the house to Bucky’s. Bucky was always smarter than him, he already had 5 tattoos and to Steve he knew the answer to everything. As he burst into Bucky’s room, he heard the shower going and flopped on the bed, jittery. But the smell of Bucky’s bed, a warm woody smell, comforted him. Bucky would know how to fix this.

“Hey Steve What are you doing here? “ Bucky asked, not even having the decency to sound surprised, just tugged on pants as he dried his hair.

“Bucky! Something happened!” Steve blurted out, tugging the sleeve of his shirt up to exposed the tattoo and suddenly, the star was black. And what was Bucky’s mark doing on his arm??

“What’s going on Steve?” Bucky said sounding muffled the towel still blocking his sight.

“Uh. My ma wants to talk to me about going to art school?” Steve said, sounding more like a question than a reply. He quickly tugged his sleeve down, not realising he had been holding it up and staring at the tattoo like it were a cat that had hatched from a chicken egg. In fact that would probably have made more sense than this. All he knew, was that this was one thing that Bucky shouldn’t know.

“That’s great Steve!” If his heart skipped a beat at the sight of Bucky’s smile, so genuinely happy for him, it must have to do with him falling sick again. That would explain the strange tattoo hopefully. Maybe it was the side effect of some medication. It was all ridiculous. He was worried over nothing. Probably a mistake.

When he got home, he rubbed the skin on his arm raw, trying to wash it off. Like he could remove this unwanted brand, he would not lose his best friend over a dumb mistake like this.

~

5 years on and that mistake had not corrected itself. Still etched on his arm a blaring sign that told the world “Steve Rogers is in love with his best friend who doesn’t love him like that”. It sucked. If he banged the cash register harder than he had to, it had nothing to do with seeing Bucky’s latest girlfriend at the store buying chocolates. She smiled at him as he checked out the bar of chocolate with nuts, confiding in him as she giggled, that it was for Bucky, like it was some huge scandal.

He didn’t tell her that Bucky hated nuts. He didn’t even feel bad about it.


End file.
